I have been gazing on your flesh
since time tore you from its loins
I gave you fig leaves for your modesty
but in a flash I snatched them away
I worshipped all of your finer lines
covered them with blushes and oils
I coaxed you into a thousand poses
kissed and coloured your pretty lips

I have wrapped and unwrapped
your flesh in fancy drapes and finery
I treated you as my rightful property
both your body and mind
I prodded your flabby haunches
explored your insides and outs
I was the controller of your desires
you were the origin of my world

I have tried to define your mind
and you have tormented mine
I would beat you black and blue
if given only half of one chance
I loved and hated in equal measure
your varying shades and hues
I found I couldn’t live without you
you found you needed me too


The Desperate Man (Self-Portrait) by Gustave Courbet (1843-1845)

3 thoughts on “Flesh

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